


We're Not Keeping It

by sheepybaa



Series: Please do shut up, Miss Stark [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, At least not for Logan, Bucky Barnes Has Cats, Cats, Domestic Bliss, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, Soulmates, Well maybe not 'bliss'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepybaa/pseuds/sheepybaa
Summary: Logan comes home from his morning run to find Bucky sitting at the kitchen table with a cat.If Logan could get headaches, this would definitely give him a headache.(Takes place well after chapter four ofPlease do shut up, Miss Stark.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I finished _Please do shut up, Miss Stark,_ I've periodically thought about the lives of different pairings in the universe, especially these two bastards. Today, I finally wrote down one of those little snapshots: how Bucky and Logan met their cat. 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: Logan, being Logan, talks a tough game about how he treats the cat. Rest assured, no animal abuse is occurring behind the scenes; Aslan sees nothing worse than the rude handling Logan gives him in this chapter.

It's 6:42 in the morning in Brooklyn, New York, and Logan, who believes in not starting your day like a piece of shit if you don't wanna feel like one, has just arrived back at his and Bucky's apartment after his morning run. 

"What the fuck is this," Logan asks the room at large. 

There's a fucking cat lying on top of their kitchen table--their _kitchen table,_ where they _eat._ It looks up and gives him that bored, deeply unimpressed look that all cats everywhere seem to have, its tail twitching lazily. Bucky, who's sitting in his chair eating his yogurt and granola as if nothing is amiss, blinks at him. 

"His name's Aslan," Bucky says, as if that explains everything, and goes back to his copy of the _Times_. The cat, its ginger fur glowing regally in a patch of morning sun shining in through the window, thumps its tail in agreement. 

Logan closes his eyes and counts to three. 

"No," he tells Bucky flatly, slinging his mostly dry sweat towel down into the empty chair and stalking towards the bathroom before his soulmate can start in on his explanation of whatever made this happen. Right now, Logan doesn't wanna hear it. 

He takes a very angry shower and wonders when the hell this sort of bullshit became a regular, expected part of his life. 

Honestly, what pisses Logan off the most about this whole cat thing is that the cat's just the latest in a long line of stray things Bucky's brought home, like the old coffee maker in the kitchen and the lacey floral lampshade in the living room. Maybe it's the Depression instincts, or maybe it's something emotional, but every once in a while, Bucky looks at something that's been discarded on a street corner or tossed in a dumpster and gets this gleam in his eye that Logan's come to recognize, a gleam that means he's gonna haul that something home and fix it up like new. Bucky doesn't do it often, and generally speaking, Logan hasn't minded much (he hadn't been thrilled about the lampshade, but they _had_ needed a new one): recently, he's even begun to find it endearing. It's not like Bucky brings home random junk, after all; he brings home things he thinks could be useful--well, up until this point, that is. Logan towels off his hair too roughly and scowls into the foggy mirror, glaring through the steam. He leans over the sink to brush his teeth, and decides that this is where he's gonna have to draw the line. 

When Logan comes back out into the kitchen, Bucky doesn't say anything. He flips silently to the next page of the paper, just like every other morning. 

However. At Logan's spot at the kitchen table, next to a tall glass of orange juice, there is a hot plate of eggs and Canadian bacon, fried just the way Logan likes it. Logan rolls his eyes at his soulmate from across the room, because honestly, Bucky is so damn transparent, he might as well be made of stained glass. Logan sits down at the table, picks up his fork, and, without saying anything, begins to eat. 

"Ain't gonna thank me for making breakfast?" Bucky says to his paper, eyes skimming over the headlines with a cool, effortless air that makes Logan want to punch him sometimes. Bucky doesn't see it, but Logan gives him a look. 

"You and I both know why you did it, Buck," Logan replies with a mouthful of bacon and eggs, scowling. The goddamn cat is staring at him while he eats; it's unreasonably disconcerting. "Not exactly what I'd call 'selfless.'"

Bucky snorts. "What am I, Steve Rogers?" he mutters into his metal palm, resting an elbow against the table to support his head as he reads. "A man's got his needs, y'know." 

"Bucky," Logan says, dropping any levity from his voice. His soulmate finally looks up. "We can't keep it," Logan says seriously when Bucky meets his eyes. 

"Why not?" Bucky counters. His tone is casual, but those baby blues betray how utterly serious he is. Logan sets down his fork and braces himself for this conversation. 

"We can't take in every stray that needs a home, Buck," Logan says, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through the damp hair at the back of his neck. God, but he's garbage at these sorts of things; normally, Logan can count on Bucky to make the words that come out of his mouth sound less gruff and callous, but when it's Bucky who's sitting on the other side of the table, Logan just has to suck it up and shoulder his way through. "Lampshades are one thing, but we both know an animal is a whole different ball game." The cat stares at him judgmentally, as if it can understand every word he's saying. Logan's skin crawls. "Plus, cats creep the hell outta me."

Bucky doesn't react as defensively as Logan expected him to. Instead, he gets this bemused little dimple between his eyebrows, like Logan's said something weird instead of something rude. Bucky's eyes flicker between Logan, the cat, and the window for a moment, before he looks at Logan with an out-of-place air of suspicion and frowns. 

"Hang on a minute," Bucky says slowly, leaning forward in his chair to place both elbows on the table with a strange note in his voice that Logan can't quite place. "You think, what, I picked this guy up off the streets?" Bucky continues, pointing to the cat. It looks at him. 

Something about Logan's reaction must answer his question, because Bucky snorts rudely and gives Logan a deeply unimpressed look before saying, "I didn't pick up shit. He invited himself in off the fire escape this morning when I opened the window for some air," Bucky explains, jerking his metal thumb towards the kitchen window and the cat beside it as a gentle breeze ruffles the curtains. "I keep waitin' for him to leave, but he hasn't. Thing's been sittin' here for three hours." The cat gives both of them a slow blink. 

Logan digests all of this, staring at the animal lounging on their kitchen table. "So...you named him." 

"Yup," Bucky confirms, reaching forward to clear away Logan's empty plate. "My Ma always used to say you don't adopt cats, cats adopt you. Figured he's probably gonna be here a while." The cat watches Bucky carry their dishes to the sink and start the water running, its tail still flicking in that slow, infuriating way. 

"You ain't staying," Logan growls at it; the threat in his voice makes its attention flicker towards him, its head lifting alertly as if there's something animal in his tone that it can recognize. 

The cat's ears swivel for a moment, taking in the sounds of the kitchen as they stare each other down. Logan refuses to be the one who gives way first, and instead, he gives the cat his fiercest glower. 

The sound of Bucky washing dishes continues in the background during their standoff. After several long moments, the cat suddenly relaxes and leans back to sprawl on its side across the patch of sun with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. As Logan bristles at it, it starts to fucking _purr_. 

"Did you really just lose a macho stare-down to a fuckin' _cat?_ " Bucky asks from the sink, damn near laughing his ass off while the shithead cat purrs at Logan smugly. 

"It's a cat, Buck; I didn't _lose_ anything," Logan snarls, standing from his chair and snatching his towel up irritably. 

"Well hell, Logan, we've _gotta_ keep it now," Bucky calls after him, laughing as Logan stalks his way out of the kitchen. "It's man of the house!" 

Logan whips his towel into the laundry hamper with far more force than necessary, and fumes as he jerks open drawers, searching the end table on his side of the bed irritably for the keys to his motorcycle. To his right, the springs of their bed give a sudden, unexpected creak, and Logan turns with a jerk, claws flashing. 

The cat pauses and looks up at him from where it's standing upon their bed. It meets Logan's eyes, and its tail twitches once before it turns away, leisurely continuing its stroll towards their headboard as if a man who might possibly be the world's deadliest predator _isn't_ towering over it with his claws distended menacingly. Logan watches, dumbfounded, as it meanders up to their pillows and sniffs each of them delicately, carefully, before it makes its apparent choice and curls up daintily on Logan's. It blinks up at him once through slitted eyes, then closes them completely and quietly goes to sleep. Logan stares down at it for a moment before he retracts his claws slowly and lowers his hand. He turns and stares, unseeing, at the wall. 

What the hell. 

Logan walks back out into the kitchen disgruntled and bewildered, and Bucky, who's placing the last of the dishes on the drying rack, looks over at him. 

"That cat's suicidal," Logan tells his soulmate unhappily. He can feel a scowl pinch his face when Bucky starts to laugh; Logan shakes his head and sighs as he grabs his leather jacket off the hook, ignoring Bucky's approach when his soulmate crosses the kitchen. "Really, Buck; I pulled my claws on it and the stupid furball didn't even flinch." 

"Sounds to me like we've got a badass cat," Bucky smirks, arms snaking around Logan's sides as he sidles in close, pressing their bodies together. Logan sees the familiar look in Bucky's eyes and drops his jacket on the kitchen table, turning in Bucky's arms to meet the embrace. 

"We're _not. Keeping it,_ " Logan repeats, leaning in to smother Bucky's shit-eating grin with his mouth. 

Several minutes later, as they stumble into the bedroom, Logan lets out a snarl as he simultaneously sees and remembers the lump of ginger fur huddled up on his pillow. 'Aslan' looks scandalized when Logan scoops him up roughly with one hand and deposits him unceremoniously outside their bedroom door, but to his credit, he doesn't lower himself to clawing the hell out of Logan's flesh. When they reemerge some time later, the cat hasn't left: instead, he gives them both a _very_ judgmental look from the new perch he's found on top of their refrigerator, then rises and hops gracefully from the counter down to the floor. He wends his way through the kitchen and back down the hall towards their empty bedroom, brushing himself against one of Logan's legs as he passes by.

In fact, no matter what sort of callous treatment Logan subjects him to over the next several days following his arrival, the little fucker just _will not go away_. Logan tries shutting him back out on the fire escape, but the cat just sits there for the rest of the day, staring balefully at them through the window and pawing at the glass until one of them finally lets him in. Bucky, because he's _weak,_ goes out and buys all kinds of shit for the ginger hairball, even finds these little custom ceramic bowls with his name painted on them (Aslan, as Logan is _definitely not calling him,_ shuns the water bowl and instead prefers to drink out of every glass of water Logan leaves unattended around the house). 

Two weeks later, when the little furball claws the living hell out of a few Hydra agents who break in to set up surveillance equipment while the two of them are out, Logan grudgingly decides that he can stay. 


End file.
